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“Is something wrong?”
“Elio can’t get in touch with the Czechs. He’s got a funny feeling. He wants to go check shit out, but his brothers are busy, so he wants some backup.”
“You have to wait for me,” she demanded.
“I did say we, didn’t I?” I asked. “Wouldn’t dare try to leave your ass behind,” I told her. “Finish up with Fury, then come back here. Make sure you got some weapons on you,” I said, going over toward my duffle to pull out the two guns I’d brought with me to the studio.
“I always have them,” she said. “Do you need any extras?”
“I thought you got cleaned out.”
“My inventory, not my private supply.”
“I got two. Should be enough. Might be smart to bring some bullets, though. Just in case this goes sideways.”
“Got it,” she said, ending the call.
By the time I showered, dressed, strapped on some holsters and guns, and cleaned up the coffee, Saylor was waiting for me down the block.
I grabbed the keys and my wallet, then rushed out the back alley to meet her.
From there, we grabbed a cab, then made it to the ferry just before it was heading across again.
“Is it unusual that the Morellis can’t get in touch with a crew like these guys?” Saylor asked as we stood on the deck. The wind was whipping her hair around wildly, making her strawberry scent mash over me, overwhelming my senses, making me wish the ferry could turn around and take us back to shore. Where I would rush us back to the studio and get lost in her for a few hours.
“It sounded like it was weird. I figure maybe they have a headquarters that Elio had shown up at a few times with no answer. Which, yeah, would be odd. Especially if they are a bigger crew. Someone really should always be at the headquarters.”
“That makes sense,” she said, nodding.
“So, Fury has a fear of balloons, huh?” I asked, moving in behind her, caging her in with my hands on either side of her on the railing. Instead of stiffening, she melted back into me. And I couldn’t keep myself from leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her head.
“You’d think one of them had chased her down the street with a machete for how much she was freaking out,” Saylor said, shaking her head. “She’s not a huge fan of skateboards either. I’m kind of starting to feel guilty about leaving her in the warehouse alone all the time. I mean, I know she’s better off where she is now than where I took her from. But she’s always so excited when I come by.”
“No one is making you keep her there,” I said. “If you want her to be a dog of leisure instead of a working dog, then so be it. You can always ramp up security at the warehouse without her there. Does your building allow dogs?”
“Yeah,” she said. “The neighbor above me has like a dozen little fluffy dogs. Take up half the elevator when she takes them down for a walk.”
“So, bring her home with you. Or bring her to the studio with us.”
“That might not be the best idea,” she said. “With how noisy she can be. One of us would be constantly trying to walk her around to tire her out.”
“True,” I agreed. “Well, I doubt we will be in the studio for longer than a week or two. And she’s happy where she is in the meantime. After that, you can outfit your place with all the shit she will need. That way, you can bring her with you to work and still have all her stuff there too.”
“That’s a good plan,” she decided. “You’re very relaxed,” she observed a few minutes later.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because we could be walking into a trap in another fifteen minutes.”
“Eh. When you’ve been stabbed and shot a few times, you kind of don’t get too worked up about shit like this,” I admitted. “You nervous?”
“I’m… cautiously anxious,” she admitted. “I know my job is inherently dangerous, but I’m not usually walking into potential traps.”
“What about when you make deals?”
“It’s with established crews that I can research beforehand. I wouldn’t be meeting up with some random assholes. I know what happens when you do something like that.”
The hurt was back in her voice.
